


The Facts Are

by Basingstoke



Category: Knockaround Guys (2001)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-05
Updated: 2002-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-02 15:36:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basingstoke/pseuds/Basingstoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Facts Are

Matty gets sucked, but doesn't suck, and fucks but never gets fucked. These are rules that he sets for himself, because despite the fact that he's a faggot, he's a man.

A man is disciplined and in control of himself and the people around him. It's a basic rule--a basic *truth*. He knows this. He only has to look at his father, or at Taylor.

Matty's looking at Taylor. Taylor's standing in his Star of David necklace and gray boxer-briefs and rifling through his underwear drawer. "Six kids," Taylor says.

"Jesus, are you sure? You'll be tripping over them."

"Yeah, I'm sure--kids are great. And don't be calling the names of false prophets in my pad." Taylor grins; he's not being disrespectful. They know each other well enough that they can tease.

Taylor throws socks around. "There's nothing here. We've gotta use spit." Taylor wants to get fucked, which is why Matty's here on his bed.

"Well, that's your decision to make, in both cases," Matty says. He's thinking about tomorrow and what he's going to say. He's thinking about time limits. He's thinking about being a man. It's not easy, being a man.

Taylor looks at him with raised eyebrows. "Butter me up with that sexy lawyer talk, baby." Matty waves his hand in apology.

Taylor slides his boxers down his hips, grinning down at Matty. Matty strokes his condom-covered dick. He hasn't flagged; he might not be entirely in the moment, but Taylor is still exactly his idea of sexy.

Taylor traces his fingertips over Matty's raised knee, then curls around Matty's leg, managing to press a kiss to his inner thigh and wrap a hand around his ankle without putting any weight on Matty whatsoever. Taylor's *delicate* unless he wants to be a bull. He could do arm curls while drinking tea from a china cup. He could beat a man to death and then pick up a blind baby kitten without missing a step.

For Taylor it's easy, being a man. He could dress in purple chiffon and high heels and his strength would still be there for the world to see. Without the muscles, without the leather and the scowls, he'd still be a genuine tough guy, the person that Matty never managed to be. With Taylor, it's effortless--and Taylor sucks. Taylor gets fucked. Matty doesn't understand.

Taylor's mountain face sculpture of a body is hovering between Matty's legs like a hummingbird. Taylor is spitting on his dick. "You're starting to hurt my feelings," Taylor says, looking up at him, touching his hand to his heart. "Nothing but frowns."

Matty shakes his head. "I've got a job interview tomorrow; I'm just jittery. Last place in town, you know?"

Taylor nods. He knows all about Matty's hunt. He knows what happens when they see Matty's gangster name and giveaway resume--all the jobs Dad's ever given him lined up in a row, and those are the only jobs he's ever had.

He takes Matty's dick into his mouth. It's good--as if a blow job can be anything but good--and Matty tries to go with it, tries to get into it, but he's thinking: this is the *last* place, and if he doesn't get this job, he's *nothing.* He's Daddy's errand boy for life--or not even that; maybe just Daddy's spoiled baby. This is his last chance to be a man.

Taylor's crawling up his body now, brushing the rough stubble of his cheeks against Matty's belly, and his chest, and his neck, and then he kisses him. Matty doesn't normally let guys kiss him, but he's known Taylor all his life and to refuse him would just be rude.

"Do me, frowning man," Taylor says, voice soft and deep as the rumble of tires on the highway.

Taylor slides under and Matty slides over until Taylor is on his knees, embracing a pillow, and Matty is caressing Taylor's iron-muscled ass. He's wondering what Taylor gets out of this. He knows Taylor likes it--loves it--but he doesn't know *why*.

He just fucks Taylor and tried not to worry about the why.

Taylor--once he really gets into things--always sounds like a lion purring. It's a rumble that pours through his whole body, something Matty feels as much as hears. His hands slick up from the sweat on Taylor's back and his palms start to prickle from the vibrations. He leans all his weight on Taylor, steady as a rock; he tongues the scar below Taylor's shoulder blade. Matty's getting into it too.

Taylor's everything sexy and not pretty. Huge, blunt, round, voice like torn cloth--and finally, finally Matty's back in the moment, here fucking Taylor--loyal and true and a killer. A killer, which Matty is not--which is just, Christ, just makes Matty wince and shudder and come.

Taylor grunts breathlessly. Matty rests his forehead on Taylor's back and gives him a hand.

In the end, he's lying on his back in Taylor's bed, and he's sticky and buzzing a little but mostly still unhappy. He covers it up with an arm over his face.

Taylor pulls the condom off him, which feels odd. "So how many kids do you want?" Taylor asks.

"I...it doesn't really work out for me, with women." He remembers shameful moments of complete inability. He tries to work out a way to say that he's a fag without simply saying he's a fag.

"Adopt."

There's a liquid sound. Liquor, probably. "That's also not really how it works for me," Matty says, making a fist in the sheets.

He can feel Taylor's face ghosting over his chest. "It works however you want it to work, Matty." Taylor licks his sticky dick and the liquor on his tongue makes it burn. Matty wants to tell Taylor no, there are facts, there are boundaries, there are things that are the way they are, but he's tired, and he doesn't bother.

Taylor crashes with his head on Matty's stomach. He's heavy enough that he's unmovable. Matty is pinned until he wakes up.

end.

 

To quote Curt Wild: "It's a freedom you can allow yourself--or not."


End file.
